


moving forward.

by Idnis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Bicycles, HP: EWE, M/M, Starting Over, a few years after hogwarts, awkward conversation, sort of oblivious to his own pining harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12657816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/pseuds/Idnis
Summary: ‘I think you popped your tire,’ Harry said. ‘But I can check to be sure.’‘I can see that the tire is flat, Potter. I’m not an imbecile.’Malfoy’s voice sounded steely,like he’d rather Harry just buggered right off.But then he lifted his hand and waved at his back tire.‘But I suppose you could take a look.’Harry takes a ride on a Sunday and definitely does NOT expect to find Draco Malfoy on the side of the road.





	moving forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This fic was part of my NaNoWriMo challenge, which is basically to write loads of shorter stories.  
> It was prompted by my best friend. Thank you for forcing me to write my first Drarry <3
> 
> Enjoy!

  
When Harry wanted to escape the busy bustle of his everyday work life,  
he sometimes rode his bike.  
  
Because it wasn’t possible to cycle all the way to the ministry, Harry normally rode his bike to the train station, then took the train into central London.  
  
He had tried living in the city for two years.  
And found he hated it.  
  
The only exception was his house at Grimmauld Place, where he sometimes stayed during the week when he had long office hours, or when his job required him to stay in London. He enjoyed those days, but they were also filled with a certain nostalgia and Harry knew it wasn’t good to dwell too long on memories.  
  
When it was finally time to go home on Friday, Harry relished the feeling of getting on his bike again and doing something so  
ordinary.  
  
☸  
  
‘You alright, mate?’ Ron asked him Saturday night.

The three of them had just had dinner at a local pub in London, and were now drinking a few beers while they chatted about their work.

‘Just tired,’ Harry muttered, and took another drink of his beer.  
It probably wasn’t the best combination.  
  
‘You’ve been working awfully hard this week, haven’t you?’ Hermione said sympathetically. ‘I heard from Stanter there was a huge case at the auror department.’  
  
Harry nodded.  
It had been huge _and_ top secret.  
  
Cases like those were difficult to keep to himself,  
especially when his best friends could see how tired he was at the end of the week.  
  
Hermione put her hand on Harry’s arm. ‘Try and get some rest on Sunday.’  
  
‘Yeah, you’ve got that trip with your department coming up, right?’ Ron asked.

Again, Harry nodded.  
  
He wasn't really looking forward to it.  
Team building exercises weren’t the norm for the auror department’s trips, and often involved learning new skills.  
  
Harry supposed it was lucky the theme of this trip was "muggle activities".  
  
He’d probably do well without much effort.  
And without the scorching of his eyebrows.  
  
‘When are your department trips?’ Harry asked, but from the tired look Ron gave him and the deep breath Hermione took, he guessed he was in for a long story.  
  
Harry smiled, leaning his head on his hands as he listened to his best friends.  
They made the trip to London worth it.  
  
☸

That didn’t mean Harry wasn’t glad to be back at his village at the end of the long night.  
  
He slept in on Sunday,  
then got up to make himself some tea and breakfast.  
  
Outside, the sun was shining,  
and there was barely any wind.  
  
Good weather for riding his bike, Harry thought, sipping his tea as he stared out the window.  
  
He opened the door leading into his small garden and was pleasantly surprised by the gentle temperature.  
  
Looking towards his little tilted wooden shack, where he knew his bike would be, Harry’s mind was definitely made up.

☸

Seeing as it was a Sunday,  
it was easy cycling.  
  
The best kind, if Harry was honest.  
  
He could just let his mind drift, thinking about his week,  
about jobs he’d finished and jobs he still needed to work on.  
  
Of course there were hard days,  
days where he wished he’d chosen another job,  
especially when cases failed in the worst possible way and he lost a colleague or a civilian.  
  
At the end of those days,  
Harry was grateful for the excuse to cycle.  
  
Because by the time he got home,  
his body was pleasantly exhausted and his tears had all been shed.  
  
☸

Harry was nearing the part in the road that was usually a little tricky,  
seeing as on Friday and Saturday night, the coolest of the young people hung around here, throwing their cans and whatnot on the ground.  
  
It was a spot originally intended for families to picnic.  
And well, anyone else who wanted to.  
  
As Harry carefully maneuvered the remains of a night well partied,  
he saw that some of the litter appeared to be bigger and grumpier than was normal.  
  
Harry blinked a few times in disbelief,  
not _really  
_ believing what he was seeing.  
  
Not really believing he was seeing Draco Malfoy standing near a glossy black bike, fidgeting with a bicycle pump.  
  
What was he doing _here_ of all places?  
  
Harry was unsure whether he should stop or ride on,  
but the agitation and frustration on Draco’s face was so blatantly obvious that he decided to step off his bike  
and try  
to be nice.  
  
‘Hey, um,’ he started, as he walked closer. ‘What are you doing here, Malfoy?’

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Malfoy’s head snapped up  
and his look of agitation turned into one of anger.  
  
‘Just taking a lovely break between all the rubbish, Potter. What does it look like I’m doing?’  
  
‘I thought I might help,’ Harry said, getting irritated. ‘But it looks like you know what you’re doing, so I’ll be off then.’  
  
As expected.  
Though Draco and Harry both worked at the auror department, they barely crossed each other’s paths.  
They barely talked to each other.

It was more of a sort polite...  
ignoring.

Harry turned around and walked back towards his bike, half expecting Malfoy to stop him,  
but there was no haughty voice calling after him.

So Harry slowly stepped onto his bike.

Too slow really,  
but he still wanted to give Malfoy a chance to change his mind.  
  
Malfoy didn’t.  
  
☸

It was after he couldn’t see Malfoy anymore—and Harry had looked over his shoulder approximately five times, so he knew when he couldn’t anymore—that Harry thought it was perhaps a bit...  
petty  
to have left Malfoy on his own.  
  
Sure, Malfoy had acted like a right git, snapping at him the way he did,  
but then again, Harry _had_ found him in an awkward situation.

If the situation had been reversed,  
would Harry have reacted differently?  
  
Probably not, he admitted.

Though it wouldn’t be the quietest way to spend his afternoon,  
still Harry turned his bike around  
and rode back.  
  
☸

Malfoy was still sitting on the exact same spot where Harry had left him.  
  
Except now his bike was lying on its side.  
  
Putting his bike against a tree, Harry approached Malfoy again, and was met with two narrowed grey eyes.

Like Malfoy was on his guard.  
  
‘I think you popped your tire,’ Harry said. ‘But I can check to be sure.’

‘I can see that the tire is flat, Potter. I’m not an imbecile.’  
Malfoy’s voice sounded steely,  
like he’d rather Harry just buggered right off.

But then he lifted his hand and waved at his back tire.  
‘But I suppose you could take a look.’  
  
Harry kneeled to check and sure enough, the tire was as flat as it could be.  
Harry could see a huge rip,  
probably caused by the lid of a can.  
  
‘What happened?’ he asked nonetheless, because though he could _see_ what had happened to the tire,  
he was also extremely curious as to _why_ Draco Malfoy would ride a bike in the country on a Sunday.

‘I wanted a break, and decided to ruin my bicycle,’ Malfoy snapped. ‘Honestly, Potter, I thought your glasses gave you better eyesight, not worse.’  
  
‘No, I mean, why are you here?’

This time,  
Malfoy didn’t immediately snap something witty back at him.  
  
Harry looked over his shoulder at Malfoy,  
and saw him looking at the ground, his brow lowered in irritation as he seemed to think about what to say.  
  
And Harry suddenly had a suspicion as to why.

‘Haven’t you learned to ride a bike when you were younger?’

‘There wasn’t any need,’ Malfoy snapped, looking up and his eyes were shooting daggers at Harry. ‘We had brooms.’

Harry really, really tried.  
He really did.  
  
But the thought of Draco Malfoy trying to teach himself to ride a bike  
at twenty-five  
was hilarious.

He barely avoided laughing out loud, but still the corners of his mouth curved up. 

Malfoy looked ready to strangle him,  
so Harry quickly suggested,  
‘We have to ask someone in the village to fix it.’

‘Great,’ Malfoy said sarcastically. ‘You’re suggesting I leave this in the hands of a muggle?’  
  
‘A muggle who can ride a bike better than you,’ Harry snapped.  
  
Malfoy didn’t reply.  
Instead, he dropped his gaze to his bike.

Harry waited patiently.

‘I can’t fix this myself,’ Malfoy eventually admitted quietly.  
  
‘So let’s find someone who can. Come on.’  
  
Malfoy looked up, his eyebrows raised. ‘What do you mean “come on”? Have you already forgotten that my mode of transportation is broken?’  
  
‘Stop thinking I’m stupid,’ Harry said, a little irritated. ‘I meant, get on my bike, and we’ll go to town and ask someone to pick up your bike and repair it.’  
  
Malfoy’s eyes widened for a second,  
a fraction of a second,  
before they were back to their usual state of skepticism.  
  
‘What?’ Malfoy sneered, and Harry instantly wanted to smack himself for offering Malfoy a ride on his bicycle.

As if Malfoy would accept.

As if Malfoy would want to share a bike with Harry.

‘Do you honestly think,’ Malfoy continued, ‘That I would leave my bike out here?’  
  
‘What?’ Harry asked, stupefied.  
  
‘It was expensive, Potter.’  
  
Yet Harry still couldn’t fully understand why Malfoy would have a problem with that.  
  
‘What?’ he asked again.  
  
‘Expens— God, why am I trying to explain this to someone who still dresses like a hobo, even though he's comfortably rich.’  
  
‘No,’ Harry shook his head. ‘I get that. The expensive part. I guess. I was just surprised you were protesting about leaving your bike, and not. Well, and not against hopping on the back of my bike.’  
  
Malfoy looked at Harry like he didn’t get it.  
Which was true.  
  
‘Are you kidding me, Potter?’ Malfoy stood up, brushing some dust off his trousers. ‘As if I would pass up on the opportunity of Harry Potter driving me. It’s like having a famous personal chauffeur.’  
  
Harry laughed. ‘Of course you would see it like that.’  
  
They walked towards Harry’s bike—the only functioning bike. Malfoy shot Harry a look over his shoulder as he asked, ‘How else am I supposed to see it then?’  
  
‘I guess like I’m the hero saving you from the road?’

With crossed arms, Malfoy waited for Harry to straighten his bike and get on it.

‘I’m not a damsel in distress, Potter.’  
  
Harry laughed again. ‘Okay, then I’m not going to say “hop on my horse”.’  
  
‘Good,’ Malfoy said, as he carefully perched on the back of Harry’s bicycle. ‘Otherwise I wouldn’t have.’  
  
Taking a few steps to get his bike rolling,  
Harry had enough momentum to put his feet on the peddles and start pedaling when a piece of rubbish was suddenly in front of his tire  
and his bike swerved and wobbled a little.  
  
‘Christ!’ Malfoy said in shock, and his hands flew up to hold onto Harry’s coat.  
  
The most inconvenient and unnecessary of thoughts filled Harry’s head.

It felt  
nice.  
Draco holding onto him.

‘I thought you had _some_ knowledge of these contraptions,’ Malfoy said accusingly.

Moving his bike to a smoother surface,  
namely the road,  
Harry tried again.

‘Sorry,’ he smiled.  
  
☸  
  
Harry didn’t hate Draco Malfoy.  
  
He didn’t.

There was a while where he did,  
maybe.  
There was a while where Harry was sure Malfoy hated him  
and himself  
too.

While Harry outright disliked Malfoy’s opinions about a lot of things,  
they hadn’t spoken in a pretty long time.  
  
Not that they’d ever _really_ had a conversation.  
  
But it was like Hermione had once told him, after Harry had told them offhandedly that some of the aurors were kind of bullying Malfoy,  
‘ _That’s really, really u_ _nfair, Harry. You’re not the same person you were seven years ago. Do you still think butterbeer is the best kind of drink out there?’_

 _‘But Hermione, that’s really different from thinking mudbloods deserve to, you know, die.’_ _  
_ _  
_ Hermione had given him a look. ' _Fine. Do you still think Malfoy deserves punishment for what he did all those years ago?’_  
  
Harry had to admit that,  ' _No.’_ _  
_ _  
_ _‘But that’s what they’re doing, Harry.’_ _  
_ _  
_ So Harry had listened to Hermione’s advice and told the head of his department that bullying should not be permitted, not only because it was very unprofessional.

The outright bullying had stopped.  
  
☸  
  
All this, Harry thought while he was riding his bicycle through the countryside—back to his house in a little village he’d chosen because it was quiet, and unknown.  
  
All this, Harry thought,  
while doing all that,  
with Draco Malfoy sitting very rigidly on the back of his bike.  
  
‘Why did you buy such an expensive bike?’ Harry asked, because the silence was getting awkward,  
especially with Harry’s somewhat heavy breathing between them.  
  
‘The muggle who sold it to me said the bicycle was the best for when you’ve been out of practice.’  
  
‘But you were never in practice,' Harry commented.  
  
‘I know that, Potter, but thank you for reminding me.'   
  
A low, rumbling sound came from behind them and though it sounded far away,  
it got closer by the second.

A car was speeding their way.  
  
‘Um, Malfoy, are you holding onto something?’ Harry asked, because the car definitely sounded a lot closer now.

‘No. I can manage to sit on a slow bicycle.’  
  
‘Slow?’ Harry repeated.  
  
‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly call this fast, Potter.’  
  
Then the car was behind them,  
honking loudly,   
startling them both as it speeded past them.  
  
Harry had to swerve to the right to avoid getting hit.  
  
Hands  
found their way onto his coat again,  
holding the fabric tightly,  
and Harry smiled yet again.  
  
There was no denying that he definitely didn’t hate Malfoy.  
  
‘You can, uh, hold onto me, if you want,’ he said, and was glad for the fact that they weren’t facing each other,  
and that they had a legit reason for it.  
  
Malfoy’s hands twitched for a second,  
grabbing onto Harry’s coat tightly,  
and then he let go.  
  
‘No, I’m good, thanks,’ Malfoy said stiffly.  
  
Harry wondered if it was weird to feel disappointed.  
  
Probably not as weird as hoping another fast car would speed past them.  
  
☸  
  
‘Slow?’ Harry repeated, trying to get back into a conversation now that any immediate dangers were gone.  
  
‘Yes, as slow as you're on the uptake apparently.’  
  
‘You have no idea how fast a bicycle is supposed to go,’ Harry argued. ‘This is normal speed.’  
  
There was a telling silence behind him.  
  
‘But then, why on earth would muggles use this type of transportation?’ Malfoy huffed. The statement lacked his usual venom though.  
  
Harry smiled. ‘Because they don’t have magic, Malfoy.’  
  
‘How unfortunate.’  
  
But Harry could hear lightness in Malfoy’s voice,  
like he was perhaps smiling too.  
  
☸  
  
The rest of the road was fairly quiet,  
which meant that at least  
they didn’t argue.  
  
But Harry had to admit he felt a little disappointed.

When he could see the edges of his village, he had to resign himself to the fact that this unusual event was ending.  
  
‘We’re nearing the village,’ Harry said.  
  
‘Yes, thank you, I have eyes.’  
  
Harry ignored that. ‘You’re lucky there’s a bicycle shop in town. We barely have baker and coffee shop as it is.’  
  
‘Remind me why you chose to live here?’ Malfoy asked, sounding genuinely surprised and interested.

Harry tried to shrug, but it was hard while also being bent over his bicycle. ‘It’s quiet.'  
  
‘There are quiet parts of London.’  
  
‘I know, but there’s always something happening in London. There’s always an abundance of people, people who know who I am.’  
  
‘Don’t flatter yourself, Potter. Not everyone in London knows who you are.’  
  
Malfoy didn’t sound resentful.  
More like he was teasing.  
  
And it made Harry smile for the fourth time since he’d found Malfoy on the side of the road with a broken bicycle.  
  
‘You’re right,’ Harry admitted. ‘Maybe I just like the excuse of riding my bike in the countryside.’  
  
‘It’s your inner hobo,’ Malfoy said, and Harry could definitely hear him smile, ‘it’s seeking its natural habitat again.’  
  
They were now turning onto the main road,  
the bicycle shop coming into view.

‘See this as your field trip then,’ Harry said, and stopped his bike in front of the shop. ‘We’re here.’  
  
The bike shifted a little as Malfoy stepped off, groaning while he did so.  
  
‘That was unpleasant for my back.'  
  
Harry locked his bike near a lamp post. ‘You’re not that old.’  
  
‘It must be your bicycle,’ Malfoy said, waiting for Harry to finish putting his bike away. ‘The quality is horrible.’  
  
Harry shook his head, and held open the door of the bicycle shop.  
  
‘Let’s get your posh _bicycle_ fixed then.’  
  
☸

The man in the shop agreed to retrieve Malfoy’s bike and fix it for an honest fee.  
  
Malfoy readily paid what the man asked in advance, handling muggle money with a confidence Harry hadn’t expected.  
  
He raised an eyebrow, but either Malfoy didn’t notice, or he chose to ignore it.  
  
All in all, it would take about two to three hours, the man estimated.  
  
☸  
  
Harry was hovering awkwardly next to his bike,  
wondering whether he should unlock it and ride back towards his house. Or not.  
  
What would Malfoy do in the meantime?

Before he'd thought it through, Harry asked, ‘Do you want to get a cup of tea?’  
  
There was definitely surprise on Malfoy’s face as he turned towards Harry.  
  
‘Tea?’  
  
Harry nodded. ‘There is a little coffee shop here.’  
  
Though Malfoy had his arms crossed in a way that suggested he was relaxed,  
Harry noticed his fingers were thrumming against his arm.  
  
Was it nerves?  
Or simply impatience?  
  
‘I suppose,’ Malfoy said.  
  
☸  
  
The day couldn’t get any more unusual or bizarre, Harry thought, as he sat down at a table in his village’s small and cozy coffeehouse  
with Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy stiffly unbuttoned his coat, hanging it on the back of his chair before sitting down.  
Harry noticed he was wearing rather plain muggle clothes, probably in preparation for riding his bicycle through a muggle area.  
  
The simple grey jumper still looked brilliant on him though.  
  
‘You’re prepared,’ Harry said, nodding towards Malfoy’s clothes.  
  
Malfoy looked down in surprise. ‘This? It’s comfortable. Did you really think I wear wizard robes all the time?’  
  
Harry did.  
  
Laughing awkwardly, he shrugged in reply.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. ‘They would be rather impractical on a bicycle, wouldn’t they?’

‘But why were you on a bicycle?’  
  
Before Malfoy could answer,  
a waiter put two cups of tea in front of them, leaving them with a friendly " _Enjoy_ ".  
  
After he was gone, Malfoy cupped his hands around his tea and looked down. ‘I already told you,’ he answered quietly. ‘To learn how.’  
  
‘But why now?’  
  
Malfoy sighed. ‘Don’t you ever pay attention? The upcoming auror’s trip? We’re going to explore a few muggle past times, including riding a bicycle. It was in the note last Friday.’  
  
Oh.  
No, Harry hadn’t read that note.  
  
Malfoy saw the look on his face. ‘You’re supposed to _read_ them, Potter. They contain something valuable called information.’  
  
Harry took a sip of his tea. ‘Yeah, I figured I'd see what the trip was about when we got to it.’  
  
‘That’s so—’ Malfoy stopped himself, searching for words but not finding any.  
  
It wasn’t anger or disdain on his face however.  
There was a sort of exasperated look in his eyes,  
like he honestly hadn’t expected anything else from Harry.  
  
It was quite a different look than Harry was used to getting.  
From Draco Malfoy at least.  
  
‘Gryffindor?’ Harry opted.  
  
Malfoy looked at him for a few seconds. ‘I suppose.’  
  
A silence that bordered on awkward followed,  
in which Harry wondered what he normally talked about with people.  
A little bit of everything usually, but work was always a big and popular topic.  
  
‘Do you like work?’ he asked casually.  
  
Except Malfoy raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this an interview?’

‘No, just curious.’

There was still some skepticism on Malfoy’s face, but he said, ‘It’s good work.’  
  
That wasn’t really what Harry had meant  but before he could specify,  
Malfoy stood up.  
  
‘There’s probably a toilet here.’  
  
‘Yeah, left of the counter,’ Harry pointed, and Malfoy walked away,  
leaving Harry to wonder if he wasn’t doing as well with the conversation as he’d thought.  
  
Why _did_ he want to talk to Malfoy so badly?

Probably, Harry thought, because he wanted to find out how Malfoy had... changed.  
  
Maybe, Harry admitted, because he wanted to find out if Malfoy and him  
fitted  
better now.  
  
He’d wanted to call this feeling, this want, unusual, but he knew himself longer than today.  
He knew that he didn’t _have_ to look out for Malfoy at his job,  
but he always checked where Malfoy was.  
  
As if he hoped they would start talking.  
  
Yeah, Harry had never hated Malfoy.  
  
☸  
  
When Malfoy returned, he took a large gulp of his tea,  
as if it was a stronger drink than hot water,  
then put it down and stared at Harry.  
  
A sigh left him.  
  
‘Why are you doing this, Potter?’  
  
‘Doing what?’   
  
Malfoy waved his hand in the air to point out where they were right now. ‘Driving me to the village. Drinking tea with me. Painfully trying to keep a conversation going.’  
  
Harry nibbled on his tea biscuit. ‘You’re not having fun?’ he asked, not fully succeeding in keeping the disappointment out of his voice.  
  
Another sigh.  
  
‘Since when do you care that I’m having fun?’  
  
‘Since now,’ Harry answered, looking at Malfoy, who was, again, drumming his fingers on his arm. Nervously.  
  
‘Then what on earth has changed in an hour that y—’  
  
‘Okay, since a few years,’ Harry admitted.  
  
The drumming stopped.  
Malfoy’s body seemed to freeze as he looked disbelievingly at Harry. 

‘You don’t have to drink tea with me,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll leave, if you want to be sad and drink tea here on your own.’  
  
‘What a great option,’ Malfoy said sarcastically.   
  
Harry shrugged. ‘We could be adults about this. Or we can go pretend like we’re still at Hogwarts, where we wouldn’t ever share a table.’  
  
Harry had meant it as a hypothetical situation,  
but it came out a little wistful,  
a little like he’d regretted never having shared a meal with Malfoy in the Great Hall.  
  
Malfoy sent him a look Harry had trouble reading.  
  
‘Alright,’ Malfoy said. ‘Impress me with your small talk.’  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
☸

The hours passed quicker than Harry thought they would,   
and before long his phone was buzzing. A message from the bike shop, telling him the tire was fixed.  
  
After they’d picked up the bike,  
Malfoy’s fingers were drumming nervously on the handles of his bike.  
  
‘Okay then,’ Harry said, because he had a hard time keeping quiet around Malfoy it seemed. ‘Good luck riding your bike back. Don’t pop a tire.’  
  
‘Excellent tip,’ Malfoy said sarcastically. ‘I’ll make sure to not do that.’  
  
They were standing silently on the corner of the main street,  
the sun setting in the sky,   
turning the world a little orange-y,  
a little warmer,  
though the weather was cooling down.  
  
‘I best be off,’ Malfoy said. He wasn't looking at Harry.  
  
‘Right,’ Harry replied.  
  
Drum,  
drum,  
drum,  
went Malfoy’s slender, pale fingers on the handlebar of his bike.

‘Thank you for the ride,’ Malfoy said.   
  
Harry wanted to smile but he didn't. He didn't want Malfoy to think he was laughing at him.  
  
‘No problem.’  
  
‘Right,’ Malfoy said.  
  
‘Right,’ Harry repeated, fighting to keep the smile off his face.  
  
Malfoy stiffly sat down on his very expensive bike   
and after a few awkward tries, rode away wobbly.  
  
Harry watched him go,  
thinking how unsafe Malfoy’s attempt at riding a bike looked,  
thinking how weird today had been,  
and how he kind of wouldn’t mind if more of his days would be this strange and  
wonderful  
kind of weird.  
  
When Malfoy was almost around the corner, Harry made a snap decision.  
  
He unlocked his bike in a hurry   
and rode after Malfoy.  
  
Of course, Malfoy hadn’t gotten very far with his awkward peddling.  
  
‘Malfoy!’ Harry shouted, nearly catching up.  
  
Malfoy’s bike swerved dangerously at Harry’s shout.  
  
‘Malfoy!’ Harry yelled again, but Malfoy wasn’t stopping.

Finally, he caught up with him.

There was a tense look on Malfoy’s face, and his arms were holding the handlebar in a cramped deathgrip.  
  
‘Why didn’t you stop?’  
  
‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to get moving again,’ Malfoy said tensely.  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed. He obviously wanted to snap at Harry, but before he could,  
Harry asked,   
‘Do you want lessons?’

Caught off guard, and very surprised, Malfoy made the mistake of looking sideways at Harry.  
  
His bike swerved again,  
and Malfoy went down,  
posh bicycle and all.  
  
At least he wasn’t going alone.  
  
His bike had bumped against Harry’s, who tried in vain to keep himself upright. But eventually he also fell down. Hard.

Climbing iout from underneath his bike, Malfoy quickly sat up and brushed the dirt off his trousers.  
  
‘Lessons?’ he repeated incredulously.

When Harry pushed himself up, his hands stung painfully. He looked at them and saw blood welling up from scrapes all over his palms.  
  
‘Yeah,’ he said, looking up at Malfoy, who was now staring exasperated at their bikes. ‘I could teach you.’

This caught Malfoy’s full attention. ‘You?’  
  
Harry shrugged,  
and stood to pick his bike off the ground, because Malfoy’s stare was getting a bit much.  
  
‘I know more people who could teach you though. I could also ask the—’  
  
‘No,’ Malfoy said quickly.  
  
Harry’s heart sank a little. ‘No?’  
  
‘I don’t need some unknown muggle to teach me.’  
  
‘You rather I ask a celebrity?’  
  
Malfoy glared at him. ‘I meant, Potter, that for some unfathomable reason, you’ve managed to transport yourself on these… things for some time. I trust your expertise.’  
  
Instead of answering, Harry walked closer to Malfoy, who was fidgeting on the spot, arms crossed defensively over his chest.  
  
Harry bet Malfoy was thrumming his fingers against his side, hidden beneath his arm.  
  
‘You trust me?’ he repeated.

A light blush spread over Malfoy’s cheeks. ‘I mean, I have seen—well, you drove me to the city, and that would mean you—’  
  
Smiling, Harry held out his hand.

‘Let’s try it,’ he said,  
maybe meaning more than  
_I’ll teach you_ ,  
maybe also meaning  
_let’s try our hand at this friendship_.  
  
Malfoy shot his hand a strange look,  
like he also remembered.  
Like he also knew that shaking it,  
that taking Harry’s hand  
maybe meant more than  
_I trust you to teach me how to ride these stupid bicycles_  
maybe it also meant  
_I want to try to be friends too_.

Malfoy shook his hand,  
answering Harry’s big grin with a hesitant one of his own.  
  
☸

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I sure did have a lot of fun writing one of my ALL TIME favourite otps. This is like one of those were once in a while you just get SMACKED with feels. Hahah.
> 
> If you want, please let me know what you thought :)


End file.
